


38 Times

by Lena_Bean



Category: Fire Emblem Musou | Fire Emblem Warriors, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: And Oboro loves him for it, F/M, Leo is a big blonde dork, Oboro is on a mission, One Shot, Random shopkeeper lady must be protected, Romance, Some Fluff, Valentine's Day Prompt, Well since IS won't give it to me, Why can't I pair these two in Revelations, i'll just do it myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 02:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17479640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena_Bean/pseuds/Lena_Bean
Summary: Leo doesn't need chocolates, he needs help, and since stuff happened that made Oboro not hate him anymore, she takes it upon herself to step in. In style.Valentine's Day fic. Inspired by their support conversation in Warriors.





	38 Times

**Author's Note:**

> I went in pairing Leo and Oboro together for the lulz and came out shipping them hardcore, there was no in-between period, it just sorta happened. Now I wish I could actually pair them together in Fates, because Forrest is like their perfect dream child. Add that to the list of pairings Fates denied me.   
> *glares in Scarlet/Ryoma*

Oboro almost couldn't believe she was actually purchasing dark fabric.

She could recall saying she despised dark colors, a long time ago. The darker it was, the more she hated it. 

Out of all of them, black was undoubtedly the worst offender. She refused to wear anything solid black, and would only use the color as an accent to make other colors pop. It was a good thing the Hoshidan army didn't have much use for it. White and red were their primary colors, and in Oboro's eyes, that was perfect. 

There had been a time when she took double pleasure in taking down a Nohrian. Not only was she ridding the world of yet another piece of murderous scum, she was destroying their purple and black armor as well. Scratching it, denting it, cracking it, all with some well-aimed strikes of her naginata.

And yet now, here she was- buying black and purple cloth, at a Nohrian market, no less! The irony was not lost on her. It actually made her laugh, just a little.

"Will that be all for you, young lady?" The shopkeeper asked, smiling sweetly. She was an older woman who had watched Oboro with mild curiosity as the Hoshidan tailor had examined the fabrics on display with a discerning eye.

"Yes, I think so." Oboro handed her the gold and took the fabric, rubbing it between her fingers for the tenth time. It was lightweight, and had a silky texture that hid how resistant it really was. "This will make a good shirt," she murmured to herself. In her mind, she saw blonde hair, delicate yet proud features, and warm brown eyes that softened whenever he saw her. "Perfect for him."

"Oh?" Oboro was yanked from her thoughts, and her head jerked up in surprise to look at the shopkeeper, whose eyes had suddenly brightened in excitement. "My dear, are you perhaps, by any chance, a tailor?"

After a pause, Oboro nodded. The older lady clapped her hands together, the gentle smile changing to a full-blown grin that made her look a few years younger. "My my, what a treat!" she said, laughing. "I had a funny suspicion you were, the second you walked up to my stall! We tailors can recognize our own kind, no matter where they come from."

"Y-you're a tailor?" Oboro looked at the woman with newfound respect. Now that she was paying more attention, she could see small, telltale scars on the shopkeeper's hands from where she had no doubt accidently pricked herself with a sewing needle. Oboro's hands had similar marks, though the woman in front of her had double the amount she did. 

The Nohrian nodded sagely. "Indeed I was, years ago. However, my hands don't quite listen to me like they used to, so I no longer make clothing for the public. All that I make goes straight to me now. I like to think of it as me treating myself for all my hard word over the years." She winked. "If I may be so bold in asking, are you making a piece for yourself? Or maybe..." She lowered her voice as it took on a conspiratorial tone. "... I couldn't help but overhear you say it would be "perfect for him". Is it perhaps... a Valentine's gift? For someone you love?"

Oboro blushed furiously and nearly dropped the fabric. The old tailor laughed again, even louder than before. "Oho, that right there tells me all I need to know! Details child, details!" She laughed harder as Oboro sputtered, fumbling as she tried to pick up her purchase from the floor. "Ahhh, I'm just giving you a hard time. It's none of my business who you're smitten with." She looked around the marketplace, smiling slightly as Oboro attempted to recover.

"Valentine's Day was always my favorite holiday," she said fondly after a few moments. Though Oboro was feeling a bit indignant at being embarrassed, she listened. "I didn't always have someone to spend it with, but that never did bother me much. It was a joy just seeing and experiencing the... well, joy that the holiday brought to our otherwise melancholy kingdom. Besides, if I did feel lonely, I could always buy a bunch of chocolates and sweets. And now, with Hoshido and Nohr united and no longer at war, Valentine's Day is a true cause for celebration." She paused. "Tell me, young lady- this person you have fallen for... how does he make you feel?"

The Hoshidan tailor looked back down at the fabric in her hands. "In truth, I hated him at first," she admitted. "He was a Nohrian, and I was a Hoshidan, and that was that." The old tailor hummed in understanding. "But we ended up in an... extended situation, one in which we had to work together. I didn't hate him then, but I didn't trust him either, and I had people to protect, because before anything else, I am a soldier. So I watched him. And I began to notice things."

"He was very intelligent, but also very forgetful. He would ride into battle with a pillow instead of his spellbook. Sometimes he would forget to comb his hair, and it would always stick up in the back. He wore his collar inside-out constantly- one day I overheard one of our allies telling him he had worn it backwards a total of thirty-six times, with that day bringing the total up to thirty-seven." The shopkeeper chuckled as she toyed with a small figurine of a wyvern on her stand. "He managed to get it right for about a week, but I caught the thirty-eighth time one morning at breakfast. And he continued to mess it up for the next six days. At the end of the week, I confronted him myself. Told him he didn't respect his tailor." Oboro smiled at the memory of a flustered Prince Leo insisting that backs and fronts "should just be the same".

"That was my first real conversation with him. But after that, I realized I couldn't stop watching him." Oboro lowered her voice, but she could tell the Nohrian could still hear her. "After I pointed out his inability to dress himself properly, the times when he wore his collar wrong lessened. He would actively seek me out to talk about clothes. He's an accomplished mage, and he suggested enchanting clothing and armor so it could protect the wearer better in battle. Occasionally, we would even talk about fashion and style. About complementary and contrasting colors, patterns, and designs. About formality versus comfort." Oboro swallowed. "I never knew he had interest in such things."

The tailor smiled knowingly. "Human conversation is a wonderful thing, is it not?"

"... yes. Yes it is." Oboro nodded. "And eventually, those conversations got deeper and deeper. And, well..." Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Now we're here."

"If you're this pink just talking about him to me, I can only imagine how fast your heart flies when you're actually with him!" The older women waggled her index finger in her direction, and Oboro went straight from pink to red. "Really though darling, I can tell you care for this boy. Which also tells me that whatever you create with that fabric in your hands will be an incredible piece of work, full of your feelings. Sounds cliche, I know. But nothing is more true. On that note, if you don't mind one last question from this old sap..." Oboro braced herself.

"Are you actually making a shirt?"

Oboro grinned. The expression was a far cry from the death glare she used to aim at Nohrians. From the one she used to aim at him. "I am. And it will have no back and no front."

**Author's Note:**

> There is so little writing and artwork for this pairing and I am disappointed. 
> 
> You can find this story on FE Amino under the username Lena, just like all my other Fire Emblem stories. I actually didn't alter this one too much, because a) I'm lazy and b) I honestly liked how it turned out.
> 
> But I'm mostly just lazy.


End file.
